Beautiful Disaster
by Lovebuck
Summary: Post ME3. Jack and Miranda turn to each other after the war for a bit of physical comfort, and with each encounter discover that maybe they want more.


Author's Note: I've always been intrigued by the relationship between Jack and Miranda, and wished there was more interaction between them in the third game. I always got this vibe between them that they just needed to have sex and do something about all that sexual tension. So, you can guess where the idea for this story came from. I don't have a beta, so all mistakes are my own. And forgive me if any of the formatting is off, ffnet is funny with how it handles documents.

Disclaimer: I do not own or claim ownership of Mass Effect or any of it's associated characters, etc.

Chapter 1

Jack watched the raucous celebration from the top of the sentry tower. The makeshift military base had been turned into an impromptu party zone for the troops' first shore leave since the reapers had been defeated two weeks ago. After days of hauling mangled bodies from collapsed buildings and patrolling desolated cities for any remaining reapers, the soldiers were more than ready to loosen their belts and celebrate being alive. There were some that preferred to use the time for quiet contemplation, like Jack. Her version of quiet contemplation involved a bottle of Ryncol.

From her perch, Jack spied her kids gathered around one of the bonfires, laughing and twirling each other about, an empty bottle of some unlabeled liquor being kicked by their dancing feet. She knew she should probably act the responsible adult and remind them that they promised not to drink any of the offered alcohol, but she told herself she would let them indulge in their vices for just this night. After the shit they had seen and experienced, they deserved at least that much.

Jack took a swig from the bottle of Ryncol in her hand, savoring the biting bitterness on her tongue and the burning fire that streaked down her throat. It was her first real drink since the reunion with the Normandy crew at Shepard's apartment on the Citadel. The reminder of Shepard added to the bitterness of the Ryncol. The hero of the Earth and the entire galaxy was MIA. Salvage crews were still sifting through the rubble that was once the Crucible in hopes of finding a body. Jack didn't consider herself an optimist, but there was a small part of her that refused to believe that anything could kill their fiery commander.

The Normandy was also missing in action. Jack heard from some commanders that the ship was last seen flying through the relays, trying to escape the effects of the Crucible. Their final fate was unknown and would remain so for quite a while. The relays were damaged and all communication beyond the solar system was down. For now, the fleets were combining their resources to recover their lost and injured and preparing their long range ships to make the journey to nearby systems to make tenuous contact with their home worlds.

Jack saw movement from the corner of her eye and rolled her eyes when the figure stepped from the shadows of the stairwell and into the flickering light of the bonfires. She should have expected that Miranda of all people would find her hiding spot when she just wanted a moment alone. When was the last time the universe ever gave her what she wanted?

"What are you doing up here?" Miranda asked. She settled her hip against the railing, facing Jack with her arms loosely crossed underneath her breasts. Jack allowed herself to stare at Miranda's cleavage for a full five seconds before looking up to meet Miranda's eyes. Okay, so maybe it wasn't so bad to have her up there. Despite being a frigid bitch, Miranda was nice eye candy. The ex-Cerberus agent lifted a sculpted eyebrow. "Enjoying the view?"

"You've got great tits," Jack said, unapologetic about openly staring at what was available for anyone to see. She turned back to the celebrations, taking another drink from her bottle. It didn't burn as bad. "They're a nice counter balance to your shitty personality."

"I see." Jack wanted to scowl at Miranda's holier than thou tone, but settle for taking another drink. She wasn't about to let the Cerberus cheerleader spoil her fun. Why couldn't she just shut up and stand there and let her stare at her tits? Jack smirked.

"Is there a reason you're blessing me with you presence?" Jack asked after a few moments of silence passed. She wanted to get shitfaced in peace without Miranda ruining it for her. "Shouldn't you be down there offering hand jobs or something?"

Miranda was silent for a moment and Jack could feel the glare drilling into the side of her face. She was kind of hoping Miranda would take the bait. Their back and forths were always amusing in their own way. Unfortunately, it seemed the long haired brunette wasn't in the mood for bickering.

"I was looking for a place to get away for a few minutes. I didn't think I'd run into you up here." Miranda shifted to rest her folded arms on the rail, her eyes trailing over the cheering groups of soldiers and mercenaries. "I wasn't in the mood be around so many happy people. So I guess that makes you an improvement. Besides, I don't know what to do with myself during these kind of things. I'd just ruin the mood for them."

Jack observed the side of her face and followed her gaze to a young woman who shared a little resemblance with Miranda, but oddly enough reminded Jack of her. A flickering memory of Miranda asking Shepard to help save her sister came to mind. Oriana. She was currently chatting it up with a grizzled man in battle worn armor, her pose open and flirtatious. She guess that Miranda was feeling like a third wheel.

"It's not that hard, Cheerleader. Grab a bottle of booze and drink till you're waking up in a bedroom surround by a dozen naked soldiers," Jack said, punctuating with a long pull of her Ryncol.

"Speaking from experience?" Miranda said, her tone unimpressed.

Jack didn't answer, but did recall the turbulent period of her life before being locked up in Purgatory. A blur of sex, drugs, and carnage. She did a lot of things that she could look back on now and cringe in earnest. She was putting her life back together, however, piece by piece. It wasn't any of Miranda's business to know that she hadn't had a romp with anyone since Shepard picked her up, though. Her opinion didn't really matter.

Miranda looked too serious, too morose for the celebratory atmosphere, even though Jack was of a similar mood. She didn't appreciate the added negative energy and felt the weird impulse to cheer the other woman up. Not for the first time, she mentally sighed at how much influence Shepard has had on her.

"We won, the reapers lost. Happy ending, yeah? So stop looking like we're about to take on another giant squid." Jack could hear the lack of conviction in her own words, but figured what the hell, people like hearing gibberish like that.

"We won the war, but we paid a great price for it," Miranda said. "I doubt we'll ever recover from all this."

Jacked recalled the Cerberus attack on Grissom Academy. The students and teachers who hadn't been lucky enough to anywhere near her protection when the first armored troops began storming the halls. She remembered the faces that hadn't been there to greet Shepard when she finally came to their rescue.

"You're quite the downer, Cheerleader." Jack offered her the bottle. "You should get drunk." She heard Miranda huff through her nose before taking the bottle from her hand.

"Why not, might as well get plastered I'm sure it'll do me wonders."

Jack smirked and slapped her hard on the back, causing Miranda to choke when she took a drink. "I like you better drunk. Makes you less of a bitch."

"Makes it easier to be around assholes like you," Miranda managed to say around her coughing and wheezing. Jack leaned her head back and laughed for the first time in days.

Sunrise was only a few hours away when the celebrations finally died down and the crowd started dispersing for their tents and cabins. Jack made sure to track down her inebriated students and make sure they made it back to their assigned cabin safely, which was made all the harder by the hammered woman hanging off her neck. It didn't help that she was piss drunk, either.

"Get in your fucking beds, you fuckin' brats," Jack slurred, using Miranda's weight leaning against her to steady her own swaying, forgetting the fact that she was suppose to be watching her language around the younglings.

"Yes ma'am," one of the blurry faces responded with a bit too much sass. Probably Rodriguez. Jack made mental note to drill the girl tomorrow till she puked. She sneered at them threw the empty Ryncol bottle in their general direction. Laughter exploded from the kids as they dispersed to their cabin, good nights being shouted over their shoulders. God, she loved those bastards.

"Yesh ma'am," Miranda said in a mocking tone, giving Jack a piss poor attempt at a salute.

"You're so fucking drunk," Jack said, before cackling when Miranda turned her salute into a raised middle finger. "Lets get your fat ass to bed."

"I do not have a fat ass." Miranda still managed to sound indignant despite being sloshed. "I have a _perfect_ ass. There's a difference."

"Looks fat to me." Jack gave her butt a hard slap, causing Miranda to yelp. "Yep. Definitely a fat ass."

"Fuck you." Miranda tried pulling away, but was too hammered to do anything more than writhe a bit in Jack's grasp.

"Easy there, drunky." Jack stumbled a bit over her own feet and used Miranda's flailing body to steady herself.

"You're just as drunk as me," Miranda pointed out, settling a arm around Jack's shoulders and leaning heavily against her. She was bit taller, which made it easier for Jack to take on her weight.

With the steady weight stabilizing her balance, Jack directed them to a different row of cabins. "Where are you and your sister staying at? You're her problem, not mine."

Miranda groaned and rested her head against Jacks. The tattooed woman had to spit out the strands of hairs that drifted into her mouth.

"I don't want Ori to see my like this. Lets go back to your cabin."

Jack recalled a hundred other instances from her past where similar statements had lead to a roll in her bed. It was surreal hearing it come from Miranda. She was too drunk to really give it much more thought.

"Whatever," Jack said, turning a corner towards where her cabin resided. She was too drunk to bother with arguing. "You can sleep on the floor."

"You're not a grunt. I know you have a full sized bed in your cabin." Jack rolled her eyes. Of course Miranda would know something like. Freaking Cerberus bitch.

They stumbled into the metal box that as one of many Alliance issued military cabins. Perfect for deploying on any terrain on any planet. Even war torn Earth. Unlike the standard issued cabins which roomed six to a unit, officers and high profile civilian contractors got their own units that came with a desk and personal shower. She shared the shower with the girls under her care more for her own peace of mind than their comfort. She had bitter memories of her own rape in the showers of Purgatory. She'd rather die than even let something like that happen to one of her kids.

The drunk duo made it the bed where Jack dumped off Miranda's weight. Miranda laughed when she bounced on the stiff mattress, her hair fanning out on the made up bedsheets. Jack stared down at the sight of the inebriated woman on her bed, laughing and body splayed out, her generous chest straining against the opening of her tight catsuit. Jack grinned and snorted.

"What?" Miranda asked, running a hand through her hair and smiling lazily up at Jack.

Jack shrugged, walking forward till she was standing between Miranda's spread legs.

"This used to be the part where I get to the fucking before sending the fuck-stick of the week on their merry way. Not sure what to do with you, though."

Miranda propped herself up on her elbows, giving Jack an unobstructed view down her cleavage. Jack stared before licking her lips and looking up to meet Miranda's frowning face.

"What? Are you saying I'm not good enough to fuck? Just so you know, lots of people want to fuck me."

Jack smirked. It would be so easy to take what she wanted from Miranda. To steal a few moments of pleasure from her while she was so unguarded. She didn't even know why she was considering it. How long had it been since she had sex? Her time on Purgatory had drained any and all desire for any kind of physical contact from another warm body. So it was strange to find herself staring down at Miranda's voluptuous body and be oddly turned on. Maybe it was because Miranda always had a 'look but don't touch' vibe about her that appealed to the anarchist in her. The more she thought about it, the more she found herself wanting to peel off the tight clothes and find out what perfection tasted like.

"You offering, Cheerleader?" Jack asked, her voice gruff. Already she was running her hands over the tops of Miranda's firm thighs, feeling the ridges of the muscles underneath the clothes.

Miranda squeezed her thighs together, trapping Jack between them. She said nothing, and raised an eyebrow at her in such a haughty way that made Jack want to wipe it away. Jack had half expected Miranda to push her away or say something about how Jack was revolting. Maybe it was just the Ryncol making Miranda so open. Jack didn't care either way. She was buzzed and something about Miranda had flipped her switch.

"You are so fucking hammered," Jack said, gripping Miranda's thighs. Miranda opened her mouth to respond, but was only able to grunt when Jack pushed hard on her chest, laying her flat on the bed. "And if I was a half descent person, I'd think twice about doing this."

"You're the least descent person I know," Miranda said, her voice oddly low as Jack crawled onto the bed over her body. "You used to be, anyway. You've changed, though. You've changed a lot."

Jack hummed and sat on Miranda's pelvis before unzipping Miranda's front till her lace covered bosom was revealed.

"Did I?" Jack stared unflinchingly into Miranda's darkening eyes.

"You cleaned up your act," Miranda said, a tremor in her voice. Her jaw slackened when Jack grabbed two handfuls of her breast and began massaging them with a strong firmness that caused Miranda to arch her back. "You don't treat yourself like shit anymore. You -" Miranda breathed out a moan. "You've matured."

"I did," Jack agreed, pushing aside the black lace to grab onto the soft flesh, chewing and licking her lower lip as she squeezed and pinched the voluptuous mounds and erect rosy nipples. "Fuck, you have great tits."

"Yes, you've told me that before." Miranda's voice was softer, wispier. She grabbed onto Jack's hands, encouraging her. She moaned in appreciation when Jack squeezed harder. "That feels good."

Jack began grinding down on Miranda's hips, Miranda's arousal effecting her. It had been so long since she felt desire running through her veins. To actually stare down at the person beneath her and feel her body pulse with want. With every heartbeat she felt her drunken haze be replaced with a different sort of inebriation.

"Wait, where are you going?" Miranda asked when Jack climbed off. She once again rose up on her elbows, heaving chest exposed to the air. Words escaped her when she saw Jack methodically strip off her her clothes till she was wearing nothing but her chaotic tattoos. Her eyes raked up and down Jack's lithe body.

Jack pushed her down again and straddled her lap. Miranda's chest rose rapidly as her breathing increased. Jack watched her eyes fly over her exposed body, tracing the tattoos and following where each one ended and began. Hands slid up Jack's thighs, up her torso, and palmed painted breasts that filled them completely. A moan rang out; Jack couldn't tell if it was her or Miranda.

Miranda licked her lips and met Jack's eyes.

"What are we doing?" Miranda asked.

Too sober a question to be asking at this point. Jack just wanted to scratch her itch. Maybe more than once.

Jack leaned down and gave Miranda a bruising kiss, her tongue ravishing everything in its path. There was no promise beyond what was being offered. Jack pressed back down when Miranda's hips pressed into her. Jack pulled back, dragging her tongue over Miranda's upper lip before leaning down to lick her earlobe. She felt Miranda shudder beneath her. "We're going to fuck."

No more words were spoken after that.


End file.
